


The Dirty Downtown Abbots - Downton Abbey meets Magic Mike

by causeimdifferent



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Bad Taste, Comedy, Farce, Humor, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-21 00:35:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1531448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/causeimdifferent/pseuds/causeimdifferent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jimmy's wrists are too delicate for hard work. So he joins a London stripper crew led by the notorious Stripper Daddy Bates (SD Bates) to replace a certain Thomas as new pretty face on the show. Which introduces him to a world of style, grace and taste (not!). Oh - and to that certain Thomas, at some point, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Move your asses", Mr. Bates smacked Jimmy’s buttocks. "Goddammit, Bates, hands off", Jimmy sighed. "Or sit in the audience and have some cash ready." God, that guy! Jimmy rolled his eyes and strutted onstage in tiny lavender hotpants to the rythm of Nelly’s „It’s getting hot in herre.“

He’d started his stripper career only a week ago and so far he quite liked the job. Admittedly his colleagues were not quite his speed. But Bates with his overly familiar ways was the only real downside. But hey, he was the boss, and so far he proved to reward Jimmy quite generously for his still amateurish attempts at strutting his stuff in front of an audience.

„I can tell he likes you, and that’s a good thing“, this other guy Brien had told him right after the first show. Jimmy had pulled his best „ew“ face which this Brien chap did not appreciate. „What ‘eew’?! Do you want your marching orders then?“ Of course Jimmy didn’t want his friggin’ marching orders. He was way too lazy for a decent job. He needed an audience to adore him and some light work that agreed with his limp wrists. He was not happy that his hair tended to get ruffled while doing his burlesque inspired performance. It had been his suggestion to do this thing that required him to splash around in a big Martini glass, though, so he could barely complain. He was quite proud of his idea but tried not to get his golden locks wet, because that made him look somewhat French (he couldn’t quite explain why, but that was how he felt) and he didn’t fancy that.

To have an ecstatic audience screech at him with abandon and groping him wantonly every night while throwing heaps of money at him was well worth putting up with this bunch of nerds that called themselves „The Dirty Downtown Abbots“. The name paid homage to the main act, which consisted of a group strip in a church setting and all of them being dressed up as abbots. „Very edgy. You gotta do edgy these days to keep people entertained“, Bates had told him. Jimmy found the name and that particular act as off as the the whole troupe – himself excluded. He was the only decent part of it. Which was fine with him – the odder the others the brighter shone his star. He was definitely the prettiest one. Or rather – the only pretty one of the bunch.

There was this Brien with the most ridiculous hairdo that ever was. He had long mousy colored locks that he used to wear laboriously coiffed to some kind of beehive. In addition he let his sideburns grow long and thick. Jimmy always felt slightly sick when looking at those but for some reason his eyes seemed to be magnetically attracted to this antidote of class and style. Jimmy had no idea how the audience did not only put up with this freak but even welcomed him with hysterical screeching of the shrillest sort.

„Us Dirty Abbots are so successful cos we cater to every taste.“, Stripper Daddy Bates had told him. Stripper Daddy Bates. Ugh. That’s how the others called this hirsute, wobbly creature with a tendency to perspire gallons onstage and the physiognomy of a 500 year old turtle. Or simply „Daddy B“. The fan base seemed to be special needs somewhat anyways. Daddy B, as Jimmy had learned right from the get go was the Top Act of the show, appearing in a solo performance right before the end. Him working the stage with snake like movements in a leather harness, a thong and chaps made the audience go bonkers and even faint in considerable numbers.

Then of course there was Matt, the nice boy next door, type perfect son-in-law. He had badly bleached hair with a yellowy tint and constantly bored everyone with stories about his bad digestion. He seemed to have zilch other interests. In Jimmy’s opinion the only half decent member besides himself was Branson, a former mechanic who did an okay job with his solo performance greased up in motor oil to the tunes of „Pull up to my bumper, Baby“ by Grace Jones.


	2. Chapter 2

„C’mon, let’s go for a smoke“, Brien nudged Jimmy in the side. They were done with their gigs and Stripper Daddy Bates had just set out to ignite the stage and end the show with his furious finale, as he used to call it. „I don’t smoke“, Jimmy declined. This Brien had been trying to go all bro-ey on him since day one. „Ugh, you one of those health-nuts, too, or what?“ Brien rolled his watery eyes. „Everybody goin’ all fuckin’ healthy now. Even Daddy B! He’s gone VEGAN. Can you imagine. VEGAN.“ Brien snorted with disgust and released a burp that smelled of steak, medium rare, as if to make a point. „So what?“ Jimmy shrugged. He himself had cut all meat from his diet since his first stripper gig and upped the fruits and vegs. As well as his visits to the gym. _You won’t see any love handles on this hot bod here_ , he thought smugly and cast Brien’s slightly neglected midriff a repulsed side-eye.

„Then keep me company, anyways.“ Brien insisted. The noise from the stage had reached about the same level as a starting stealth fighter and was threatening to shred Jimmy’s eardrums. This always happened when [Stripper Daddy Bates](http://causeimdifferent.tumblr.com/post/81415008508/so-i-was-doing-this-da-stripper-au-photoshop) wriggled out of his thong to let his „trouser snake“ take over. Jimmy nodded and followed Brien into the little backyard of the club. Brien lit a fag and inhaled deeply. „I need a new smoking buddy“, he wheezed while blowing out a huge cloud of smoke. Jimmy waved it away, gagging. „Ever since Thomas has left, things are no fun anymore”, whined Brien taking another drag that did away with half of the entire cigarette. 

„Why did he leave then?“ Jimmy asked - mainly to distract himself from staring at Brien’s sideburns. He didn’t care a hoot about Brien’s chums, who surely were as unpleasant as him. „Fell out with Daddy B.“ Brien explained. „You owe it to him you are here now, see? He was the pretty one before, Thomas was. Ye always need one pretty one in the crew, gotit?“ Brien elaborated with a self-important face and a tone of voice as if lecturing on Kant. _One pretty one._ Jimmy felt quite flattered. Not that he didn’t know, but it was always nice to hear.

„We used to hang and smoke and gossip, you know. Good times.“ Brien rambled on. _Oh yea, you and your bloody gossip._ It was Brien’s favorite pastime. In fact, the „conversations“ Jimmy had been involved in before, after and evern during rehearsals for the show easily qualified as the most moronic exchange of words he’d ever had. And Jimmy did not regard himself an intellectual by any means.

„Ye know, he’s had surgery, that’s why …“ „Huh?“ Jimmy looked at Brien confused. „Daddy B! Had surgery! _Down there_! That’s why his ringedingedingdong is so dingedingelonglong.“ _Right._ Jimmy almost prayed for Matt to make an appearance with one of his mind numbing constipation tales, just to change the subject. Then he might steer the conversation towards more bearable regions. Like veganism. Jimmy had recently read in GQ, it was conducive to good digestion.

„They almost got in a fight.“ Brien had this habit of jumping from one subject to the next without warning. „Daddy B and his longlongdingdong?“ Jimmy snickered. „No!“ Brien rolled his eyes as if Jimmy was the half-wit of the two. The most annoying thing about Brien was, that he had no sense of humor, Jimmy was painfully reminded. Irony was completely lost on him. He took everything you said at face value. „Thomas and Daddy B, dummy!“ _If you talked to this Thomas like this, buddy, I wonder he didn’t punch you in the face_ , Jimmy thought testily. He sighed: „And why’s that?“ Not that he particularly cared.

„Thomas wanted to do the Top Act, you see. Said Daddy B should step back a bit and let him move to the front row. Daddy B wouldn’t have any of it, though. But Thomas isn’t one to take a back seat forever, understand?“ _Yup_ , Jimmy thought, _that wasn’t all that hard to follow._ „Starting out with his own troupe now, Thomas is.“ „Why didn’t you go with him then?“ Jimmy asked. „Pffff“, Brien twirled his right sideburn, „Cos he wants to go to Brighton, see? Brighton! Says there’s more sun than around here. What kind of reasoning is that, I ask you?“

Jimmy just shrugged. He liked Brighton. „I luv me some London“, Brien muttered, „I can’t move away from my hairdresser. Me sideburns need a trimming every week, see!“ _Yea, sure, freak_. Jimmy nodded dismissively and refrained from informing Brien, that Brighton was no more than half an hour train-ride away from London.


	3. Chapter 3

„Yeaaaaah, boys, let’s go“, SD (Stripper Daddy) Bates interrupted their ‘conversation’, sweating profusely, his moobs heaving against his leather harness: „Partaaaayyyy!“ „Huh?“ Jimmy cast Brien a questioning glance. Which was answered with a bleak and entirely inconclusive stare that left Jimmy wondering if the pea that was Brien’s brain had temporarily gone AWOL. A sudden sharp pain stung his cheeks, caused by Bates’s thumbs and forefingers pinching his face in a less than sensitive manner.

„It’s about time we break in our newbie, innit?!“ Bates grinned, a mad and scary glint in his eyes. Jimmy stared at his boss, terrified. „Yeaaass!“ he heard Branson jeer from somewhere behind his back. „It’s Cock-tiiiiime!“ _What?!_ Jimmy freed himself from Bates’s grip and almost fell, as Branson’s hand slapped him hard on the back: „Let’s go, bro!“

Jimmy felt himself getting dragged through the backyard’s door that led onto the street. Matt stuck his finger awkwardly and without warning into Jimmy’s side. Jimmy cringed: „Ouch!“ „Ayeeeee!“ the usually entirely lethargic Matt screeched, his doughy face contorted with glee. He grabbed Jimmy’s right arm like a policeman, Branson did the same to the left. Bates stomped along the road in front of them, wearing black chaps, his naked buttocks wobbling with cellulite at every step. His torso bare except for his spike studded tiny harness that dug deep into his overfed tissue.

„Is he not going to change?“ Jimmy asked, aghast. „Aaahahaaah“, Branson screeched in a way that indicated an intake of illegal substances. „Naw, Daddy B likes it that way. Primal, you know! Women are all for it, he says.“ he elaborated. A whiff of Bates’s sweaty scent stung Jimmy’s nose as if to underline Branson’s words. „Pri-mal! Pri-mal!“ Matt started to holler beside him in an entirely uncharacteristic caveman voice. He’d obviously had a pick from Branson’s pill box as well, Jimmy concluded.

„What does, um, Cock-time mean …?“ he ventured, not knowing if he could stomach the answer. „Partaaaaay!“ Branson yelled, „That’s what that means! And A. S. S. by the bucket!“ „Pri-mal! Pri-mal!“ Matt chimed in, not even trying to make any sense at all. Ass by the bucket didn’t sound half bad. As did cock, in fact, if Jimmy was entirely honest with himself. Yet torn between curiosity and panic he considered crying for help for a brief moment, which was brought to an end as Daddy Bates came to such an abrupt halt, that Jimmy almost collided with his bacon-like back.

They stood in front of a black door belonging to a brick building in a dark alley. Bates’s huge fists banged against it as if he held a personal grudge. Beside the door someone had written the word COOK with white paint on the wall. The second ‘O’ had been crossed out with chalk and someone had written a ‘C’ above it. The door opened. „Let us in, you cocksucking motherfucker!“ Bates snorted at the bouncer spit spraying through his teeth, leaving the man at the door almost drenched.

„Follow me, you whores!“ Bates hollered at his entourage and clattered down a staircase wreathed in black light. A muffled booming bass greeting them. They reached a claustrophobic corridor which opened onto a huge club area with a stage on which three men wriggled their naked limbs around poles in pink and violet light. Jimmy’s shocked gaze flickered left and right. There were more naked men on display on individual platforms twitching their bodies convulsively to relentless techno beats.

Bates jumped onto the main stage with astounding dexterity and shoved the three men harshly aside. „Bring the throne, you fuckers!“ he boomed. Branson nudged Jimmy in the side: „Your performance, buddy!“ „What?“ Jimmy felt his hands go numb with dread. He just stared paralyzed, as a throne-like chair was hauled onstage on which Bates took a seat, looking at Jimmy and indicating with his forefinger for him to move up to him. „What you waiting for?“ Brien screamed.

„What?! What am I supposed to do?“ Jimmy whined. „You go up there and give him a lap-dance, you dimwit! Initiation-time, m’laddo!“ „And you better make him hard“, yelled Branson with a maniacal laugh. Jimmy felt himself pushed forward brusquely. „Lap-Dance! Lap-Dance!“ Matt intonated. „Lap-Dance! Lap-Dance!“ The crowd chimed in. „The only way out is through“, Branson yelled. „Primaaaaaaaal!!“, Matt shrilled. _Oh well, can’t let an audience go to waste_ , Jimmy decided and stumbled onstage.


	4. Chapter 4

„Yeh. Yeh, Sonny, yeh“. SD Bates’ eyes were glittering, his cheeks shone with layers of coconut oil that he used to apply to his whole body „to look sweaty“. As he didn’t tire to explain each and every time he greased himself up before going onstage. Apparently oblivious to the fact that he already had a tendency to perspire in such profuse a manner it could easily be called pathological.

Jimmy slammed his palms onto SD’s knees and stuck out his perky lil’ booty (as he admiringly had christened it himself) towards the crowd. Only to fight an entire volley of gag urges at his boss’s raspy command „Call me Daddy!“. But the hysterical screeching of the crowd caused by his nicely gyrating hips kept Jimmy going.

„Oh yeh, Sonny, come to Daddy“, panted SD and Jimmy prayed the DJ might turn up the volume as he wriggled up and down between his boss's legs. „Why so shy, sonny“, leered Bates, „Give yer Daddy something to work with!“

 _What? More?_ Jimmy mouthed blankly towards the rest of the stripper gang going bananas at the edge of the stage. Matt had ripped the front of his shirt into shreds and was busy slicking up his chest with his Pina Colada while rolling his eyes fascinatingly far back into his head. _Should we ever do a Zombie gig he’s gonna dance the lead_ , flashed through Jimmy’s head.

Before he could elicit what kind of nastiness the rest of his colleagues had in store, Bates’s claws had closed around his cheeks to thump Jimmy’s face between his leather chaps clad legs. Bumping Jimmy’s forehead uncomfortably against Bates’s erection – or rather the massive cockring supporting it.

 _Heck, he’s hard! Yay, mission accomplished. Now lemme go!_ Jimmy struggled. But Bates had other plans. One of his paws pressed Jimmy’s head down into his crotch, the other began to smack his buttocks less than tenderly. _Ample reason to retaliate_ , Jimmy decided. „How about you work with this, Daddy!“ he screeched and pumped his fist into Bates’s balls which made the man intonate a yodelling aria that would have humbled any professional.

The crowd was screaming, as if Bates was One Direction. Jimmy couldn’t but seethe with envy. Whatever the circumstances Bates did not fail to drive a crowd insane. Still Jimmy used the moment to catapult himself out of Bates’s reach and straight into the beefed up arms of Branson. Who had stripped down to a chauffeur’s cap, leather gloves up to the shoulders, a leather thong and heavy leather boots. All remaining bare skin was seamlessly greased up in dirty motor oil.

Branson’s eyes were graced by a maniacal glare, his mouth distorted by a grin that could be discribed no better than ‘insane’. „Let me show you how it’s done“, he declared and grabbed Jimmy by the waist to twirl him across the stage, humming to the techno tunes: „Hmmh – hmmh – hmmh – hmmh – hmmh“. After another pirouette Branson let go of Jimmy with so much spin that Jimmy flew offstage and against Matt’s Pina Colada chest which made them tumble to the floor.

Before Jimmy could even decide if he wanted to get back on his feet or rather crawl into the darkness to hide from this crowd of lunatics, he was hurled back to a standing position by Brien. Just in time to witness the overture of Branson’s lapdance for Stripper Daddy Bates, who was lounging even more spreadeagled than before on his throne between the stripper poles. His jaw slack, spit was drizzling from the corners of his mouth as he watched Branson peel off one of his gloves.

With a _pffump_ Branson shoved his boot-clad foot between Bates’s legs. „Ayyyeee!“, SD shrilled. „Shut up!“ Branson hollered and smacked the leather glove across Bates face a few times in a row from left to right and back again. So hard even Jimmy could hear the slapping noise at the edge of the stage above the by now hammering industrial noise mistakenly called ‘music’. Sending Bates into spasms of delight.

Yet instead of exploring even more elaborate spanking methods, Branson decided he also had some love to give to Daddy B. With the elegance of a fully grown gorilla he hopped onto Bates’s lap, to wriggle his oily chest against Bates to cover his face and front lavishly with motor oil. Simultaneously Bates licked it greedily from Branson’s skin with the expression of a gourmet.

Unexpectedly Jimmy’s vision blurred. As much as he wanted to be a big city boy, as the floor of the club started to shift under his buckling legs, Jimmy knew, he didn’t stand a chance. Those smells and sights and noises were too coarse for a sweet and delicate Yorkshire lad such as him.

Jimmy saw no other way of escape than to faint. Into the very arms of the only person in the entire club who had been waiting patiently for exactly that to happen ever since he first set eyes on Jimmy Kent that night.


End file.
